


Cross Your Fingers, Here We go

by JudeAraya



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009 Era (Phandom), 2009!phan, 2010 Era (Phandom), 2010!phan, 2012 Era (Phandom), 2012!Phan, 2015 Era (Phandom), 2015!phan, 2019 Era (Phandom), 2019!phan, Established Relationship, M/M, The Future, and a happy-ass ending, and all that goes with that, the ups and the downs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21906310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudeAraya/pseuds/JudeAraya
Summary: One day it would happen; Phil didn’t know if today or next month or next year, only that one day it would be like any other milestone they’d achieved together, the inertia of a too-big love in a very lucky life.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 26
Kudos: 80
Collections: Phandom Fic Fests Holiday Exchange 2019





	Cross Your Fingers, Here We go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TearDrop1234](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TearDrop1234/gifts).



> Written for the Phandom Fic Fest Holiday Exchange!
> 
> My prompt was **hand holding** , which seems simple but gave me room to write a fic that really touched my heart.
> 
> So many thanks to [jestbee](https://jestbee.tumblr.com/) for being such a great beta and cheerleader!

_**In Love (2009)** _

“Phil, you know this is creepy as fuck, right?” Dan asked. The air inside the abandoned hospital was crisp, a different cutting cold than outdoors in the wind. Perhaps it was the haunted stillness, but Phil almost wished they were back outside. 

“Yeah, but that’s the fun of it, Dan.”

“It’s dark,” Dan said. He took Phil’s hand, forcing him to transfer his torch to his left hand. Dan squeezed hard, using his own torch to light up each corner of the room rapidly. 

“You all right?” They’d been exploring a long time, Phil poking at detritus left behind when the hospital had been abandoned, beer cans and trash from kids coming to party. Phil imagined what camera angles he’d use to capture the dusty, echoing barrenness of the space, and how good it would all be for a horror film. Dan had been very, very silent and Phil assumed it was because he was taking it in, like Phil was, letting Phil blabber excitedly about ideas. 

A scuffling noise came from behind them somewhere—rats maybe? Dan’s fingers gripped Phil’s hard enough that he winced. He turned, held the torch so he could illuminate Dan’s face without blinding him and saw wide eyes, pale cheeks and compressed lips. 

“Dan, what’s wrong?” 

Dan shook his head, turning his face so Phil couldn’t see his expression. 

“No, c’mon, tell me, please?” He tried to duck down to examine Dan’s face. Dan stepped into Phil’s space and tucked his face into Phil’s neck. Phil had a mouthful of fur from Dan’s hat and he couldn’t hear a word of what Dan was saying, muffled by his scarf as he was. 

“It’s so dumb,” Dan said, pulling away only enough to speak into Phil’s ear.

Phil wrapped his arms around him. “I’m sure it’s not.”

“I’m just… _I’mscaredofthedark_ ,” Dan said before plastering himself closer in Phil’s embrace. 

“Oh, my god Dan, why didn’t you tell me before?” Phil said. “I wouldn’t have made you—”

“No, I wanted to. It sounded really cool. But I’m—I forget sometimes. It’s so stupid, I’m almost nineteen and scared of the fucking dark.” 

“Dan I’m scared of horses because of their legs,” Phil said. “It makes no sense at all, but there it is. It’s a weird-ass fear that’s totally irrational. But it is what it is. There’s nothing wrong with being scared of the dark. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

“But we only saw half of it,” Dan protested. 

“I’ve seen parts before. If you want you can come with me during the day, or I’ll come with Mar, if he’s home.” 

“You sure?” Dan sounded so small, Phil had to kiss him. 

“Of course.” 

They managed to climb back out the window they entered through. The night air was clean and the moon was so bright Phil thought they could make it home without the torches if they wanted. 

“You all right?” he asked Dan quietly. 

“Yeah, this is better.” Dan sighed and examined the cloudless sky. “There’s something about shadows in houses. Not knowing what could be there. This isn’t scary. Not with you.” 

Dan’s smile was so sweet, the way he bit his lip to try to contain it, Phil’s heart throbbed. He’d thought he was falling for Dan, but when Dan suddenly lay down in the snow, giggling for Phil to join him, his heart beat a telling staccato rhythm. When Dan took Phil’s hand and held it tight, then pointed up at the stars, trying to figure out the constellations, the warmth of it made the cold soaking into his clothes worth it. When Dan turned toward him, face lovely in the moonlight, Phil could barely breathe for it. 

Eventually they got too cold to stay; Dan gathered up their discarded torches and began to brush the snow off of his pants and arms. Phil turned away and with a large stick, began to write in the snow. 

Maybe he should have said it in words, but they didn’t feel big enough. 

“What’re you doing?” Dan asked with a laugh. It was too dark without the torches to really see. The letters were clumsy, and so was Phil, too-cold and trying not to step on anything. Once he was done, he stepped toward Dan. He caught Dan’s snowy mitten and kissed him quietly. 

“Okay, you can look,” he said. He hung back a little, shy and a tiny bit afraid Dan would think it was too much. But only a tiny bit because really, there was no one he was safer with. No one who knew Phil so intimately, even in such a short time. 

“ _Phil_ ,” Dan said, voice a little shredded. 

“Is it too much?” Phil whispered, only to find himself with an armful of snowy, wet boy. Dan kissed him, hard and overwhelmed, but it was okay because Phil was too. 

“I—” 

“No,” Phil said, taking himself by surprise. “This is just for you, now.” He didn’t know how to say it. How he knew Dan was going to return the words, and mean them. But Dan didn’t love himself. Dan didn’t trust the love his family gave; didn’t trust that he was loveable. Phil so much needed Dan to know he was loved, he was loveable, he was brilliant and unique and irreplaceable. These words and this moment were for Dan to keep; one day, Dan would give him one of his own.

_**In Intimacy (2010)** _

Phil squirmed his way further up the pillow, tugging the hair at the back of Dan’s head to get his attention. 

“Mm?” Dan pulled their mouths apart with an audible smack. He kissed the corner of Phil’s mouth, then his chin, a little messy and a lot excited. 

“You-you’ll—” 

“What?” Dan shifted away, rolling off of Phil. 

“No, come back,” Phil said, grabbing Dan’s hip. Dan shifted so their sides, skin damp and hot, were touching torso to knee, but didn’t roll back onto him. 

“You all right?” Dan asked. He pushed Phil’s hair off of his forehead. Phil nodded and leaned up to kiss Dan, who evaded. “No, really Phil,” Dan insisted. 

“I’m fine,” Phil said on a sigh. “I shouldn’t’ve stopped you-”

“Phil, literally, always stop me if—” 

“You weren’t doing anything wrong!” Phil blurted out. He was tongue tied and inexplicably nervous but under no circumstances did he want Dan to think he’d done something wrong. 

“Okay, then what’s up?” Dan was tracing distracting lines up and down Phil’s neck, a fluttery-good sensation Phil wanted to chase more of. 

“I dunno. M’ just—” 

“You scared?” Dan asked. His lips were bright red from so much kissing, white indented where he was worrying his teeth. 

“Not scared,” Phil said. “I guess a little nervous? It’s silly, I know.” 

“It’s not silly,” Dan said, soft how he got with Phil. “I am too, y’know.”

“But I’ve done this before! You weren’t nervous.” 

“Mate, we were both nervous, what are you on about?” 

Phil closed his eyes and cast his mind back to the first time they’d done this—well the first time he’d ever topped Dan—but a lot of it was lost in a pleasure soaked haze, in the lingering memory of how incredibly right Dan was, how perfectly right they were, together. 

“I guess,” Phil said. Dan had stopped stroking his skin; they’d both gone soft and Phil could cry with how he’d ruined the evening. 

“Stop that,” Dan said, taking Phil’s chin in his hand and turning Phil to him. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to let you down or anything. If I don’t like it,” Phil said on one exhale. Dan’s eyes widened. He sat up, hand wide on Phil’s chest, and straddled his torso. He leaned down, one hand on either side of Phil’s head. 

“Phil, I never, ever want to do something with you that you don’t enjoy or want to do. _Ever_. That’s the only thing that could ever disappoint—” Dan huffed, blowing a chunk of waving hair off his forehead. “That’s not the right word either. Just. Please, don’t,” he pleaded. “I only ever want to have sex with you if _you_ want what we’re doing too. We don’t ever have to do it like this if you don’t want! Just because I love getting fucked doesn’t mean you have to.” 

“I know,” Phil said. He ran his hands up Dan’s smooth flanks, then down and over his thighs. The knot that had been forming, icy and tight in his belly began to thaw. “I _want_ to though. Really.” 

“Well, so, when you’re feeling ready, we’ll try it. It’s not like blowjobs are a chore babe,” Dan said, then smacked Phil’s chest when he smirked. Dan loved giving blowjobs more than anyone he’d met in his life. It was almost intimidating. 

“I wanna try tonight—no wait, please,” Phil said when Dan started to protest. “I do. I feel loads better already. Just, y’know, saying it.” 

“If you’re sure,” Dan said. Phil pressed his thumb to the center of Dan’s forehead where a worry line appeared. 

“You said you were nervous too, right?” Phil asked. 

“Yeah. But it’s cool. I mean, I’m probably going to be balls at this, I’ve never fucked anyone.” 

“I doubt that.”

“Oi!” Dan gasped, then giggled. 

“I meant you weren’t going to be balls at it, you arse,” Phil said through laughter. Dan’s face was all scrunched and his laughter sharp and brilliant. 

Dan collapsed onto his chest, knocking the air out of him. Phil wrapped his arms around Dan, low at his waist, to keep him close. Dan started to speak but then caught Phil’s eyes. Phil couldn’t say how he knew that Dan’s face was mirroring his own, only he did. This time, when Phil tipped his chin for a kiss, Dan met him for it. One and then another, two under each eye. One under Phil’s ear and down his neck. 

“Phil, it’s really all right if you don’t like it. Promise you’ll say something,” Dan pleaded. 

“I think I will. Like it,” Phil said. “Because it’s you.” 

Dan rolled his eyes but grinned his lopsided, shy way. “ _Phil_.” 

Phil let Dan think he’d meant it in a cheesy way, because yeah, that applied too. Telling Dan he was nervous worked enough wonders that he was able to appreciate, again, how good Dan felt on top of him, heavy and warm and naked. That curl of cold worry he’d been battling departed, leaving an altogether different nervousness. A buzzing, excited kind. 

He’d really not enjoyed bottoming the couple of times he’d tried it, true. But he hadn’t really known those guys. He’d gone on a handful of dates between the both, and that was counting generously. With one, he’d been chasing curiosity and trying to prove something to himself. Start to stop it had been uncomfortable; Phil couldn’t seem to relax and the other boy hadn’t noticed because he was so excited and turned on. He’d taken his time, thankfully, knowing it was Phil’s first time, so it didn’t hurt too much. Only once he was inside Phil, moving with assured strokes, had he taken the time to check in. By then, Phil wanted nothing but to get the whole thing over with, honestly, so he’d smiled and said yeah, and that it took some getting used to. He tilted his hip when instructed; then he’d felt it, little flashes of a new pleasure. Nothing mind blowing, but enough to make him think that maybe, with someone else, it could be good. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” The guy had said. 

With the other, he’d been chasing a connection which had really, _really_ not been there. They’d met by accident when Phil had picked up his coffee at the coffee counter, only half awake and dreading his morning lecture. Patrick had been sweet and flirtatious from the get-go. It was nice not to have to guess and worry if this fit guy was interested in him. They’d gone out to a too-loud bar that night, one that was popular with the Uni students, and eventually their table had been crowded with friends of Patrick’s that happened by. Phil, who by this point was growing tired of quick hookups that led nowhere, told himself that it still counted as a date. Maybe it had ended with barely a word spoken between them, but it had started as one. Right? 

After the third official date (or second and a half?) Patrick had come over and let himself into Phil’s room with a glint in his eye that excited Phil. Patrick was generous in bed, he was attentive, even if each time they’d been together after he was a bit more detached than Phil tended to be. But Patrick really seemed to like him. 

Even so, that night, Phil couldn’t relax. Couldn’t shake the idea that he looked ridiculous, especially when Patrick asked if he’d turn over and do it on his hands and knees. Phil had, not wanting to spoil the mood. Phil felt more alone in that experience than he did with strangers he’d jerked off at dark parties where no one exchanged names. Half the time they were stolen away in dark rooms and he’d barely seen them. It wasn’t any better this time, only small sparks of pleasure and a lot of feeling used in an odd way. _Maybe this is it then_ , Phil thought, _this is as good as it gets._

Even if that’s as good as it got, Phil almost liked the idea of being used if it were with Dan. He wanted it to feel good—amazing even—but bringing Dan pleasure always made Phil feel good. Incredible. Intimate and connected, because even when things were sloppy and rushed, he always felt so, so close to Dan after. 

Dan loved bottoming; there was no mistaking how much. Dan was so loud, demanding and whimpering, biting his arm and moaning long and low when he came. Phil wanted that too. Or something close to that.

The night before, when Dan was blowing him, Phil had spoken tentatively into the dark. 

“Would you maybe finger me?” 

Dan had pulled off from where he’d been experimenting with how deep he could go—plenty deep, Phil’s body had been coiling up tight toward an orgasm—to catch his eye. It was too dark though, so Phil had touched his face. 

“I wanna see how it feels. Maybe distract me, y’know, while you’re doing it?”

Dan had huffed a laugh, warm air puffing over Phil’s still very keen dick. “That’s a lot of faith in my coordination bub.” 

“I think I can suffer through that,” Phil said, and when Dan began flickering kisses up his length, he thought, _I could suffer through anything with you_. He’d made Dan stop long enough for him to root around for some lube, and when Dan put his hands on the insides of Phil’s thighs, he’d spread them easily.

Despite his concerns, Dan was much more coordinated than either of them could have expected. It had taken him a bit to get his rhythm at first, but that was okay, especially when he pushed the fingertip of his index finger in. Phil had clenched, hard, and rather unlike the other two lads he’d been with, Dan hadn’t kept going. Instead, he’d kissed Phil’s thighs, traced the pad of his thumb around Phil’s rim, which he discovered he _really_ liked. “Tell me if you want more, okay? I won’t do more if you don’t like, I want this to feel good.” 

“Yeah,” Phil had said, biting off a moan when Dan’s mouth sunk back down on him suddenly. Something about the dark heightened his pleasure, taking away one form of stimuli and magnifying all the others. 

Minutes later, Dan had two fingers in him, moving in tiny pulses. Dan was mostly sucking kisses up and down his length, distracting him with pleasure without overwhelming him. It was better than it ever had before, but not from where Dan’s fingers were technically; rather, from a combination of fluttering pleasure at his rim and the lovely knowledge that Dan was inside him. Inside him and being so, so careful and attentive. Not being able to see each other, Dan couldn’t read Phil’s face, and they’d had to communicate a lot more than they usually did during sex. Phil couldn’t lie, he _loved_ that. Intimacy soaked, Phil had relaxed into the sheets, closing his eyes and letting Dan work to make this the best he could. 

“Tell me if I find it, okay?” Dan had whispered. 

“Find wha—” Phil had arched and moaned when Dan curled his fingers and dragged them out slowly, searching, apparently, for his prostate. 

“I guess I did,” Dan said, only a little smug. It hadn’t been perfect, and they’d both struggled with consistent pleasure and pressure, what with Phil squirming and Dan now trying his best to finger and blow him. Still, all it had taken was that pleasure, so much more heightened than Phil had ever imagined it could be, to have him spilling over the edge in minutes. 

Panting into Dan’s damp hair, voice slurred and fingers shaking, he’d kissed Dan over and over. “Dan,” he’d whispered, “I want to you to fuck me.”

Dan had threaded his fingers through Phil’s hair, half asleep and soft muscled in Phil’s arm. “‘Kay.” Then they’d both fallen asleep, tangled and sweating and tacky with come. 

Phil remembered how amazing it was, coming from being fingered. And sure, maybe his nerves were rearing up, but he did really want to do this. “C’mon, Dan,” Phil said. "I really liked when you fingered me. And we talked! It’ll be fine.” 

“You _promise_ to stop me, if it’s not good?” Dan squinted one eye shut, attempt at looking serious an utter flop. It was too fucking adorable. 

Phil wiggled further down onto the pillows and spread his knees. “Yeah.” 

In the end, it took maybe longer than they’d both expected; Phil was absolutely sweat soaked, but a mess of conflicting sensations that thrilled him with each press of Dan’s fingers. They’d stopped at three, and Dan was better about finding Phil’s prostate more consistently. 

“Can it be face to face?” Phil asked. Dan cocked his head.

“Yeah?” He said it as if it never would have occurred to him to do otherwise and Phil could have kissed him, really he could, if only he weren’t so far away and his fingers weren’t suddenly doing something very, very good inside him. The logistics of it—Dan pulling his fingers out, finding a pillow to prop Phil’s hips up, and a towel to put over the pillow—took him out of the moment enough that his erection was flagging quite a bit. Nerves that had fled when Dan had him chasing pleasure so beautifully came back. 

Phil didn’t mind, he couldn’t, not when Dan had that determined, fond expression on his face, one that promised he’d do anything to make this as good for Phil as he could. Dan traced Phil’s rim, soft but steady, and kissed the tip of Phil’s cock. He rolled the condom on slowly and settled between Phil’s spread thighs. 

“You sure?” he asked, blunt tip pressed up against Phil.

“Just, like. Will you—” Phil swallowed. “Would you hold my hand?” 

“ _Phil_ ,” Dan said, voice low, tight with emotion. “Always.” 

_**In Comfort (2012)** _

Dan came in from his walk, soaked by a sudden downpour he hadn’t been prepared for, shivering and still grey, grey, grey. Water dripped from his fingers and pants up each step, leaving ghost footprints that would dry on their own. They’d evaporate eventually. Absently Dan wondered if he would as well. If this sickly, numbing, nothingness would eventually take him too. 

Phil was waiting in the lounge, phone in hand, anxiety tight in his eyes and mouth. 

The breath Dan took to speak was monumental in effort. “Sorry,” he said. Maybe he was, really, deep down where other Dan existed. This greyness passed, it always did. Days like today, when the nothingness had driven him onto the busy London streets in search of something, anything, that might spark a glimmer of life or feeling, that hope alone was all he had to hold on to. 

Phil started to speak but stopped himself, for which Dan was grateful. Phil set his phone on the table with sharp click. Dan winced, then swayed. He hadn’t eaten, he’d barely slept, his body ached from two different kinds of cold. He let Phil take him by the hand. Let Phil undress him, though it was a struggle with wet jeans and very passive effort from Dan. 

“Shower?” Phil asked. Dan shook his head, already sinking into the comforting give of their bed. His muscles hurt from shivering. Naked but too tired to give a fuck, Dan pulled the duvet over him, over his head, sealing out light and noise and anything but the smell of their bedsheets. 

“Can I come in?” Phil asked. He always asked. Dan hated saying no, but Dan knew it would be worse, should Phil assume and get in anyway, only to be rebuffed at the first show of affection. Dan shook his head. He heard the soft fall of Phil’s socked feet as he left, but not the click of the door closing. Probably Phil intended to come back. _I can do this_. Dan shook harder, unable to warm himself. _I’ll talk to him, I can make him less scared_. 

“Tea?” Phil’s voice jolted Dan from the haze he’d sunk into. He was still shivering. He made himself peek his head out. Forced his mouth into a facsimile of a smile. Made it shape words around the most Dan-sounding voice he could. 

“Thank you.” 

Phil's lips were tight, one long line that was so _not_ Phil and _oh_ , it was a shock to be able to feel something, this deep pang in his belly. Dan never wanted to worry Phil. Days of this: days of grey, of not eating, of hopelessness, took a heavy toll on them both. 

“I’ll leave you to it, then. But call for me, yeah? If you need anything?” 

Dan nodded. He sat up and took the tea in hand, if only to show Phil that he would try. 

“You’re cold,” Phil said, noting the way Dan’s hands trembled. An aborted movement Dan thought would have been carded fingers through his wet hair became a hard twitch of Phil’s hand. He turned without speaking. Dan almost, _almost_ wanted to call him back. Instead, he sipped the tea because he wanted to make Phil happy. Because he hated to disappoint. It wasn’t long before Phil was back with Dan’s heavy, fuzzy blanket. Without asking, Phil stripped the duvet off of him, but quick as he could, draped him in the blanket Dan used for comfort when he was having a rough patch. Phil lay the duvet on top. The softness of one and the heaviness of both sank right into him. Tea half-finished, Dan scooted under them, sighing deeply as something, some sort of toxin melted, loosening his muscles and allowing warmth in. 

Dan woke with a start, overwarm, heart pounding. He’d been dreaming, but the only impressions left were of darkness, a lightless hole so deep Dan fell endlessly, endlessly into it. 

“Phil?” he croaked Phil’s name, cleared his throat, and tried to call louder. 

Phil must have been close. Dan would have resorted to texting for him, but moving required herculean effort, honestly. 

“Yeah?” Phil asked, hovering in the doorway. 

“Could you—” Dan sniffled, realizing with a start that his face was wet. “Come here?” 

Dan could feel the too rapid flutter of lingering terror from his dream, heavy in his chest. Phil crawled under the covers, fully clothed, and lay next to Dan. He didn’t touch, but waited to see what Dan needed from him. Dan’s breath hitched. A dizzying rush of emotions took him by surprise; somewhere under the sadness and the fear and the deep, deep need he had for Phil’s comfort, was a strange happiness. Perhaps relief would be a better name. Dan felt shitty, but he _felt_. 

“Closer,” Dan said, lips trembling. Tears spilled out of his eyes unbidden, like he had no control over his body and it was leaking on its own. Phil reached out, wiping the moisture from Dan’s face and with a small frown Dan almost wanted to laugh at, wiped his hand on the sheet. Dan let him, scooted closer by increments until he could feel Phil’s body heat. He couldn’t stand much more closeness, honestly, not so overcome and oversensitive. He needed something though, something only Phil could ever give him. Dan didn’t have a name for it, thought maybe there were no words for the feeling. Dan only knew that it was nowhere to be found in the world but here, with Phil. 

“Would you hold my hand, maybe?” Dan asked. Phil’s lips quirked, a ghost of a smile. 

“Always,” he said, voice deep with emotion. Dan slipped back into sleep, no longer scared that nightmares would take him. Phil’s fingers were cold, little chilled points of contact and so, so soft. 

_**In Forgiveness (2015)**_  
“Honestly Phil, would it fucking kill you to close this for once?” Dan rubbed his shin where he’d tripped over the open dishwasher. 

“If you watched where you were going—” 

“That’s rich! Shall we play count the bruises?” 

“Is there a particular reason you’re being an arse?” Phil’s voice was testy and sharp, words bitten off and Dan was _so_ not here for that, not when Phil was in the wrong. 

“Um, because I don’t appreciate being maimed in my own home?” Dan didn’t—couldn't—look at Phil. He snapped the dishwasher shut with enough force that the glasses rattled. He then walked through the kitchen slamming every open cupboard and drawer he came across. It felt good to vent his frustrations. 

“You’ve lived with me for long enough to know I sometimes do this. Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little Dan?” Phil said. 

When Dan turned to Phil it was with burning cheeks and fingers buzzing with anger. And okay, _maybe_ he was overreacting, but he wasn’t about to admit it now. Not when Phil was stood leaned against a wall with arms crossed, voice dripping with a particular condescension Dan associated with being treated like a child. 

“Seriously?” Dan said. He made a concerted effort not to raise his voice. Phil never responded well to Dan’s ‘shrieking’—what Phil called it—when it wasn’t put on for the camera. If Phil was already treating him like a little kid, Dan wasn’t going to give him more fuel for the fire. 

“I’m sorry,” Phil said, flat and emotionless. His eyebrow twitched but his face stayed otherwise neutral. Rage so bright it almost shocked Dan burned up through his arms and into his chest. Phil had been cold and pulled away for days and nothing, _nothing_ Dan did had gotten him through that wall. Dan hated being shut out by Phil. He _never_ shut Phil out. And yeah, they dealt with things differently, but generally Dan could guess or had an idea what was causing Phil to pull away. Only now, he had no idea. 

The anger swelling in his chest was too big, too bright, to have to do with the dishwasher. Unfortunately the longer he stood in the room with Phil so remote and honestly, unkind, the more that anger grew. 

“I’ve got to get out of here,” Dan muttered. 

“Be my guest,” Phil said, gesturing toward the front door. 

Seconds passed in total silence; Dan actually had no response. Then his stomach dropped, so hard and fast Dan was dizzy with it. His eyes burned and although he turned to hide his face from Phil so he wouldn’t see him tearing up, he thought maybe Phil did. 

“Dan—” Phil said, still cold but maybe not as icy. _Message received_. He wasn’t about to stick around when Phil obviously wanted him gone. Dan barely paused to grab a coat before leaving. He didn’t slam the door this time. Didn’t say goodbye or turn to check Phil’s face. Instead, he closed it with a soft click and rubbed his fingertips under his eyes to catch the moisture gathering there. 

—

Dan stayed out for hours, walking aimlessly at first, before trying some Pokemon Go. His heart wasn’t in it, so he stopped for coffee. He sat a long time, trying to parse what had happened. He went over the last week, searching for any clues as to why Phil was acting the way he was. Dan stared into the bottom of the coffee cup as if it might offer him answers. Only the dregs remained and still Dan didn’t leave. Calmer now, he understood that he really had overreacted to the dishwasher incident. He didn’t much want to apologize for it though, not with how Phil had acted, not when Phil had spent days cutting Dan out. At the very least, not without a conversation about the way that Phil had been acting. Because they didn’t do that anymore. Or at least, they tried not to. Dan might have been the one in therapy, but he brought communication and mindfulness exercises home all the time. Getting Phil to stop shutting him out when he was anxious or upset was something they’d been working on. 

Eventually Dan had to leave. His ass was sore from sitting in a hard chair. Plus, leaving the house for so many hours was excessive and draining, what with his worry that he might run into fans while in such a bad headspace. 

The flat was dead quiet when Dan let himself in. It was well past nine, too early for Phil to be in bed; perhaps he was editing, or at his desk answering emails. Dan took his time, taking his meds and drinking a glass of water in the kitchen. He realized he hadn’t had anything but coffee in hours and so he drank another. The darkness was unnerving; he wanted to seek Phil simply for comfort. But that was his fear; not only of the dark, but of being alone in it. Dan had no idea why Phil had withdrawn, but when Phil did this, he felt unmoored.

Sometimes his therapist wanted to talk to Dan about codependency. Dan never wanted to, because the connection he and Phil shared was so right, so intrinsic and intuitive, he worried over the risk of changing that dynamic. Today, staring into an empty coffee mug, he wondered if she was on to something. He couldn’t remember the last time it had been like this, Phil so suddenly cold, Dan floundering for answers, that sick anxiety balling, black tar in his belly. Dan knew the thought was fleeting, because as soon as he and Phil figured this out, they’d be back on even ground. Fights like this, real, deep, rooted ones, were rare. Was it really worth potentially upsetting something beautiful that made Dan truly happy? 

Phil wasn’t in the office, nor the bathroom, but rather asleep on their bed. His laptop was tilting dangerously to the side and his neck sagged to the right. Dan winced. He wasn’t sure how long Phil had been asleep for; any more than an hour and Phil would have a terrible crick in his neck. Dan removed the laptop gently and then sat on the bed. 

“Phil?” he put a hand on Phil’s shoulder and squeezed, gentle but deliberate. He didn’t want to startle Phil out of sleep; sometimes he could bring him out slowly with care. He called Phil’s name twice more before Phil’s lashes fluttered open. Phil straightened up with a wince. 

“Time is’t?” he mumbled, rubbing his neck. Dan wanted to do it for him but didn’t know if the touch would be received. 

“Gone ten,” Dan said. “How long were you out?” 

“Don’t know.” Phil checked his phone. “Came down around eight.” 

“I’m sorry—”

“No,” Phil interrupted. He poked Dan’s thigh when Dan didn’t look up. Dan continued to study his fingers, knotted up in his lap. “I’m so sorry. That was uncalled for, telling you to leave.” 

Dan nodded, because the apology was appreciated. The hurt he held onto stemmed from more than that moment. Dan hated being rebuffed when approaching conversations about Phil pulling away, which wasn’t uncommon in the past, but he had to. He just did. Otherwise it would get bigger and bigger until something uglier and bigger snapped. 

“I’m sorry I overreacted,” Dan said. “I think—well I know—I was upset about something else and the dishwasher tipped me over the edge.” 

“What was it?” Phil asked. He shifted his body toward Dan. Dan who was doing his level best to control his face because, honestly? He was shocked Phil didn’t know. 

“Um…” Dan risked a glance up. There was no anger in Phil’s face, only concern. “Well, um. Please don’t get mad? Can you like, let yourself listen? Maybe try not to get defensive?” 

It wasn’t always easy to ask someone to listen to hear and not to react when you knew they would probably react poorly otherwise. Phil frowned and sighed, but nodded.

“You’ve been really distant,” Dan said. “Like, complete wall up. And I have no idea what I did, or what happened. But I’ve been trying—” 

“Dan,” Phil said, soft and sweet. Sweeter than he usually was. Still, Dan grimaced. He didn’t appreciate being interrupted, not when he’d built himself up so much to approach Phil. 

“Phil, please let me finish,” he begged. Phil nodded. He put his hand on Dan’s knee, a small point of contact that went miles toward comforting him. “I mean...I guess it helps that you don’t seem to have realized you were doing it?”

“I didn’t,” Phil said. 

“Okay. So I haven’t done anything wrong?” Dan bit his lip. Being unsure wasn’t a good fit for him, it felt all wrong. Too small and much too vulnerable. With Phil it wasn’t so bad, because Phil made him feel safe. Still, Dan didn’t have to be okay with it. He straightened up. 

“No, no, you’re fine,” Phil said. He put a hand on the side of Dan’s neck. Dan closed his eyes and absorbed the warmth and comfort of skin-to-skin touch. 

“But you’ve been—you really have been shutting me out. And not all that kindly.” Dan thought back to that morning, Phil talking down to him, making him feel like a hysterical child. 

“I am so sorry I spoke to you that way Dan,” Phil said with sincerity that was genuine. “Really. It was so uncalled for and I know how awful it makes you feel. It just...came out.” 

“I know,” Dan said. “Could you-can we try to talk about what’s going on? Figure out what’s been happening? Because I know I’m not imagining this.” 

“Yeah,” Phil said. He dropped his hands, fingers running along the top of their duvet. Dan resisted reaching out to still the movements. 

“What’s happened this week? Was it something with the liveshow?” 

“No,” Phil shook his head, “that was fine. I...I don’t know. Warehouse stuff with IRL stressed me out, but— _oh!_ Oh I am _so_ stupid.” 

“What?” 

“Mum called. You were in your Google meeting.” 

“Everything all right? They said everything was fine with your dad’s checkup.” 

“No it is. She called because _they_ called back thinking that something was wrong and they’d missed it. But it turned out that someone had mixed up files and written the wrong notes.” 

“Oh,” Dan said. He wanted to ask why Phil hadn’t told him any of this.

“I felt so stupid, because everything was fine, everything’s okay. But it...scared me. Like, maybe it’s been so long that I take for granted everything’ll be okay. I mean...I know I also get nervous before his checkups, so this makes no sense.”

“Phil.” Dan put his hands over Phil’s to stop his babbling. “You don’t have to justify your feelings, to me or anyone else. Including you. Feelings can be messy too, they don’t have to make sense.” 

Phil sighed, then flipped his hands over to squeeze. “I know. I’m sorry...I think I pushed the whole thing away without even realizing because I felt silly and like I was overreacting and overcomplicating.” 

“D’you think that’s why you shut me out?” Dan risked asking. He didn’t want to make this about him, not really. Phil’s fears about his father were so real, and so valid, and Dan never wanted to diminish them. He wanted Phil to talk about them, or feel them, process them, if he could. And yeah, he wanted to be Phil’s person, the space where he could work through stuff, but that was Phil’s choice, not Dan’s. 

Phil sighed. He wasn’t looking at Dan, and Dan had a hard time reading the tone of the sigh. Phil hadn’t let go of his hands so Dan took a small risk and scooted closer. When Phil didn’t object or move away, Dan put his arms around Phil’s neck. It was awkward, with both of them sitting cross legged, but when Phil tucked his face into the crook of Dan’s neck, Dan thought maybe it was the best hug he’d had in ages. 

“I’m so sorry Dan. I know how it hurts you when I do this.” 

“Please don’t,” Dan said. Phil’s voice was thick and his grip too tight. “So long as we’re talking now, okay?” Deep down, a tiny niggle of uncertainty lingered, intruding on this moment. What if this was a pattern they never fully resolved? Was easy forgiveness a bandaid simply because Dan hated fighting with Phil?

“Maybe we should have a communication safeword,” Phil said. Dan thought he was only a little bit joking. “If I’m doing the thing where I shut you out but don’t realize, you can yell ‘banana jellybean’ at me.” 

Dan laughed. “Okay but it would have to be something we’d never possibly say. I can think of five reasons why we’d have to yell that off the top of my head.” He pulled away because his back was beginning to hurt, but pulled Phil down to lay beside him. Phil threaded his fingers through Dan’s and kissed the back of Dan’s hand. It was utterly unfair, when Phil did these things, because they absolutely melted Dan’s insides. 

“I’m sorry you were scared and I didn’t know,” Dan whispered. Phil shook his head. “No, I know I couldn’t have known. But I never want you to be alone when you’re scared, so I get to be empathetically sorry.” 

Phil smiled wide. “Only you end an argument by talking about empathetic apologies.” 

“I said empathetically _sorry_ , that’s not the sa—” Dan grunted in surprise when Phil’s lips cut him off, but happily met his kisses with fervor. 

“I think I like you,” Phil murmured against Dan’s mouth, then swallowed Dan’s laughter. Phil rolled on top of him, taking both of Dan’s hands in his, weaving their fingers together, tight and sure, next to Dan’s head. 

“I guess I like you too, you buffoon.” Dan giggled, then gasped when Phil took his kisses to Dan’s neck. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, even if it was almost too much. He could take too much, when it was Phil. 

_**In Intention (2019)** _

Perhaps McQueen was a bit much for one in the afternoon but Phil loved that Dan did these things. Not that Dan needed an excuse; after all, Dan wore a seven hundred dollar vintage shirt to go feed _deer_. But wearing something a little louder, something so recognizable, and all because he knew how much Phil loved him in it—these were the tiny details that made these moments special. 

They went out all the time. They went to museums, to the park, to movies. For coffee and for Pokemon missions. 

What they didn’t do was go on _dates_ very often. Specified, planned for, get dressed up and put extra effort into it dates. Going out with a stated intent, after all these years, warmed Phil all the way through. He’d tried to explain it to Martyn once, but it had come out all jumbled and Martyn had only laughed. 

“You two go out all the time mate, what’s the difference?” 

“Never mind,” Phil had said, and made sure to pair it with a smile. Perhaps it was different with his brother, if only because he could casually hold Cornelia’s hand, or look at her the way he sometimes he did, without calculating every aspect of their surroundings. 

Before they’d retreated into their own bubble, when they were first together and so ridiculously loud, they did things like that. Kiss in the cinema, touch with easy intimacy. For a particularly rough adjustment period they’d tried not to do _anything_ that could be perceived as a date without friends. And then, well: tours, books, tours. _Life_ , so big and wonderful and complicated, with the two of them at the center, together, insular, riding it all out. 

Phil had woken up the day of their ninth anniversary, the anniversary they’d picked for themselves that no one knew about, and realized they’d not planned anything. That they hadn’t in a couple of years. Sure they’d exchanged cards or kisses, maybe made a special dinner or gotten a favorite takeout. But that wasn’t the same.

“Dan,” he’d said, too loudly and rather suddenly. 

“What! What?” Dan had sat up straight in bed, gone from sleep to panic in two seconds flat. 

“No, oh, sorry Dan, it’s fine,” Phil had said through laughter. He pulled Dan back down. “Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out. I just had a realization.”

“Phil.” Dan yawned and checking his phone. “It’s eight in the morning and we don’t have meetings, what the fuck?” He rubbed his eyes and snuggled his face into the pillow. Phil had poked his cheek. 

“Stop being cute when I’ve had an insight,” Phil had demanded. 

“All right, all right. Hit me with the sweet insights. And then we can go back to sleep.” 

“We don’t go on dates.” 

Dan had gone quiet for a good thirty seconds before his eyes opened back up. “Phil. I don’t know what—”

“I mean proper _date_ dates,” Phil had said. 

“What are you on about?” 

“It’s the fifteenth. And we have nothing planned.” 

“Not true!” Dan’s eyes were wide open. “I’ll have you know I bought a very romantic new toy for you tonight.” 

Phil had laughed. “Spoilers!” 

“I’m totally willing to use it on you now if you can get to the point in the next five minutes. I’m thinking this is the only way we’ll get back to the sleep you’re robbing me of.” 

“Dan,” Phil had said, scooting a bit closer. “Do you ever think we’re too comfortable?”

“I like comfortable,” Dan had said. “Is it not enough?”

Phil had touched Dan’s lip and smiled as reassuringly as he could. “I love comfortable. It’s the best. But I still…”

“Still what?” Dan’s voice was low and careful and tender. 

“I don’t want to _not_ put effort in. To us. Not that we don’t! But extra effort, something intentional.” 

“All right,” Dan had said, still soft but still a little confused. 

It had taken more than one conversation for Phil to convey quite what he meant, and a few strange attempts before they’d perfected the language of special dates versus regular outings. 

It was in the way they dressed. It was in finding spaces where they could be casually intimate in couple-y ways. It was in knowing your partner went to the trouble to plan something special. 

It was McQueen in the sunlight on the way to an early movie screening at Screen on the Green. They’d learned this was a good time, and a small enough theater, for them to go unnoticed. They’d learned to arrive right as the movie was beginning so that they could find seats the farthest from others. 

It was Star Wars for the fifth time, shared popcorn and in the darkness of the theater, Dan’s hand stealing over the armrest to hook his pinky over Phil’s. 

Initially it had been nothing like those first years when they had nothing to risk and no idea that one day these small intimacies would be taken from them. They’d been doing this for over a year now. They were out. They didn’t have to confirm or deny a relationship, because they’d shared as much of themselves as they were comfortable with and had drawn careful boundaries about what they were willing to share going forward. 

Two other people were in the theater with them, both sitting in front of them. They’d perfected the art of holding hands in public—this public—without fear. Phil remembered so clearly the first time Dan had done this, the way it felt as if his stomach had fallen through the seat, how he’d had to chastize himself for fucking swooning over his partner of nine years at the age of thirty one. 

He’d missed this, so, so much, and had no idea. 

Today they’d have a cheeky drink at one p.m. in a cinema. Phil would catch the way the lights of the film caught on Dan’s curls and the shadow of his dimple when he smiled so full. The way the stark black and white of his button up shirt would glow. He’d be the one to take Dan’s hand, to slide his fingers through Dan’s. His stomach would thrill at the suggestiveness, at the daring. For Martyn, his parents, their friends, touching your partner’s fingers in a movie theater might not create such intense, thrilling tension. Dan felt it though. Dan understood. He’d bite his lip, or shift in his seat, take a breath—any number of tells Phil had memorized over all of these years. 

And it would feel like getting away with something. Phil felt young when they did this. Felt reckless. 

And maybe today, when Dan had finished his drink and his lips were buttery from popcorn, it would be the day Phil took a new risk, pulling Dan in for a soft kiss, if only to chase the taste of alcohol and popcorn that always faded by the time they got home. One day it would happen; Phil didn’t know if today or next month or next year, only that one day it would be like any other milestone they’d achieved together, the inertia of a too-big love in a very lucky life. In this moment all he cared about was Dan, so beautiful in the sunlight and the rush of anticipation over something as simple as holding hands in a theater on a date with the best person you’ve ever known. The rest would unfold on its own.  
_**In the Future**_

“How shall we do this?” Phil asked. His eyes were bruised with exhaustion. 

Dan barely opened his eyes to answer. His hair was a greasy mess. Phil wondered idly when he’d last showered. Dan’s feet were in his lap, and were he not so tired, Phil might grumble that he wanted to be the one to stretch out. In theory, they could both go to bed, although doing so tempted fate. 

“Do what?” 

“Announcement.” Phil tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Dan’s feet were warm in his hands. Phil ran his hand absently over the bump of his ankle bone, over and over. 

“We’d already decided, yeah?” 

“I mean, are we doing both? Just the one?”

“Oh.” Dan sighed. Phil rolled his head and met Dan’s sleepy eyes. “I reckon we ought to just do the thing. If we’re going to destroy everyone, we might as well get it all done in one fell swoop.” 

“Yeah,” Phil said. He squeezed Dan’s feet. He was so, so tired he almost felt inhuman, but also, warmth rushed through him, tangled with nerves and anticipation. They’d been waiting on this for so long it was unreal. 

“Phil?” Dan’s voice was almost lost to the sofa cushion his face was turning in to. “I really love you.”

“Yeah,” Phil said with a smile so big it almost hurt. He was so full-up with love and happiness despite it all, he wondered sometimes how his skin was enough to hold it all in. 

Soon though, he’d get to share that feeling in a way he never had. 

He slipped into sleep with Dan. He had no idea what the future would hold but it was okay. It was lovely even, because they’d never known, could never have anticipated any of the detours life would take them on. Only now he was so, so ready to be surprised for the rest of his life. 

—

“This might be awkward,” Mark said. 

“What on earth could be awkward about this?” Dan asked. He was mid shirt change in front of everyone, the first one having been suddenly ruined. 

“I meant the positioning.” 

“Oh,” Dan said, then popped his head through the neckhole, making his hair a staticky mess. 

“If you’re sure you want it all in the picture.” 

“Yeah,” Phil said. “We definitely do. But we have a small window here, I can feel it.” 

“All right then, I’ll need you both on your knees so that the backdrop is behind you.” 

Phil almost made a joke about them being on their knees in front of a camera. Not only was it not the time, but they didn’t _have_ the time. 

“Now do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you, and I think we’ll get it,” Mark said. 

“All right,” Dan said. There was a small tremor in his voice, but his eyes on Phil’s were steady. 

“We’re ready.” 

—

They did it with no fanfare, with no warning. No instastories, no cryptic tweets or social media silences. They’d gotten so used to keeping secrets, and even if this was one of the most disruptive, exhausting one they’d kept yet, Phil was absolutely giddy with nervous elation because it was the absolute _best_. 

“D’you wanna do it?” Phil asked, finger hovering over the trackpad where the cursor was over the send tweet button. 

“Yeah,” Dan said roughly. His eyes were bright. He’d wanted this for so long, much longer than Phil. “Can I?” 

Phil shifted so the computer was angled toward Dan, kissed his temple and whispered, “Go ahead.” 

—

The photo was simple. Black and white, neither of their faces, just left hands interlaced, right hands supporting what they most treasured in the world. The ring finger of each hand had a simple gold band on it; the first shared secret they’d been holding on to for years. Their right hands, helping to cradle their daughter, only days old, the best project in the works they’d been a part of for over a year. 

She was curled perfectly, her little fist wrapped around Dan’s thumb, Phil’s thumb tucked underneath. Her lovely, unmarked skin glowed, her newborn peach fuzz hair haloed in the light. 

They were picture perfect, the three of them a circle, the culmination of that too-much love that had defined and held their lives together.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from YOUTH by Troye Sivan bc I'm a simple girl like that.
> 
> Should you feel the urge to reblog [this](https://judearaya.tumblr.com/post/189982319897/fic-cross-your-fingers-here-we-go-phan), I won't stop you :D


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